


Early Christmas Present

by imwiththeunicorn (tiatodd)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiatodd/pseuds/imwiththeunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first of 12 Oneshots til Christmas completed in 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Christmas Present

A climbing string of three chimes nearly startled Sam out of his chair and he folded his book, glaring at the loud rectangular prism known as his new iPhone. Why the hell Alfred had been so hell-bent on getting it for him, Sam had no idea; he supposed it was a nice gesture, but technology didn’t particularly agree with him.  
“Dammit, Al, what now?” he muttered as he picked up the device and slid his thumb across the bottom of the screen. Glancing over the text, Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, and he read it more carefully. Eyes widening, he felt a blush rise in his cheeks. “W-what--!”  
“I want you so bad right now omg im so horny,” the text read. Was this serious? Or a prank or something? Before Sam had a chance to decide, he had received another message, this one a picture. A very hot picture, in which Alfred was depicted laying sideways on the bed, hair tousled and shoulders bare with desperate eyes and wanting lips. Sam blushed hotter. And then he read the caption: “Arthur please still be awake and sext me you bastard.”  
Arthur.  
Right.  
“Al, you idiot this is Sam,” he texted back, backspacing several times on account of the constant fumbling with this awkward excuse for a keyboard.  
It wasn’t a minute before Alfred texted back. “Oh.” And then another few seconds. “Well I’m still horny and Arthur isn’t up.”  
Sam huffed to himself, setting down the phone a minute and staring at the wall while he tried to lower his heartrate. “Can you please not tell me these things? It is not necessary and it is kind of disgusting.”  
“Sam cmon play along plzzz?”  
“I think ‘please’ is spelled with a few more vowels.”  
“Stop being a grammar Nazi and just sext me, ho.”  
Sam raised an eyebrow. Did Alfred just call him a gardening tool? “No, that’s disgusting and depraved. Why the hell would I want those sorts of texts from you sitting on my phone?”  
“Well you could delete them after, I wouldn’t care,” Alfred replied.  
At this point, Sam huffed, setting down the phone on the coffee table lest he be tempted to start an argument with Alfred. Or a something else. Lifting his heavy hardback from where it sat beside him on the sofa, Sam stroked his fingertips over the closed pages, along their edge and down to the bookmark, which he pulled out slowly and carefully as the book fell open.  
His eyes hadn’t even fixed on the proper paragraph before the phone went off again. He simply huffed and ignored it, resuming his read. Not halfway down the page, he received another message, and then another, and then three in such quick succession that each incoming alert cut the previous one short. “Dammit, Alfred,” he grumbled, keeping his book open and reaching for the phone. My, he turned a brilliant shade of vermilion when he unlocked that phone.  
A text and five pictures sped into their positions on the message screen. The thumbnails should have been enough to tell Sam not to scroll through, but despite himself he did so anyway. He only glanced, of course, but that was enough to spark any fantasy.  
They weren’t the most racy pictures by any means, but they did show off the most kissable set of lips and lust-blown ocean eyes. One depicted simply Alfred’s clavicle at an angle, the lamplight in his room spilling across it and playing with shadows in an almost mesmerizing way. And yes, Sam _was_ getting all this from simply looking at the thumbnails. Why in hell would he ever actually tap the image of Alfred’s fingers sliding into his dark blond treasure trail? And he certainly did not stare. Alfred’s torso wasn’t _that_ gloriously toned and muscular.  
Sam quickly came back to his mind, just long enough to read the text. “Same come on. Please.” Right as he did, Alfred sent another text. “Srsly it isn’t even that hard, the picture button is right next to the text box. You don’t even have to send pictures, just say something sexy. PLEASE.”  
Sam’s mind went into shock for a brief moment. The idea that Alfred actually wanted to do this with _him_ was so confounding arousing, he almost…  
Nope, nope, nope. He nearly threw the phone to the floor, pressing his book open to read. Focused on every individual word. “The.” What the hell did “the” mean? What did it want from him? Why was Alfred so hot? Nope, nope, reading. He got about a half a sentence down, and then the word “hot” (referencing the weather in the book’s current setting) set him off again. He stretched out his legs on the couch and slouched, letting the book lay open across his legs, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell are ya doin’ to me, Al…”  
As if in reply, another text came. Sam felt a slave to his phone as he scooped it lazily up off the carpet.  
“I know you saw these,” it read. “You know it tells me, right? It tells me when you’ve read one of the texts. You perv. You totes saw these and started jerking it.”  
Sam’s eyes opened wide in embarrassment and outrage. Of course he hadn’t started--! Doing that! It was disgusting, it was, it was—  
A text of Alfred’s fingers between his parted lips, tongue slipped lazily in between them like he was licking something off.  
\--very tempting.  
Embarrassingly enough, Sam had begun to feel that tingling heat in his lower stomach, and his jeans were growing noticeably tighter. No, this wasn’t going to happen, he was going to read…  
“You saw that one too,” said another text. Annoyed, Sam clicked the silver button on top, screen going black. He slapped it down onto his belly and stared up at the ceiling with a low groan.  
“Moron.”  
The screen illuminating caught Sam’s eye, and when he looked down he saw the thumbnail of another picture.  
He really, really, really wanted to look.  
Picking the phone up again, he looked at the thumbnail, Alfred tugging a hand through his hair with a slackened and lusty expression. Oh man.  
Well, if he just looked at it like this, Alfred wouldn’t know, right? And I mean, even if it _was_ a little arousing, it didn’t mean Sam was attracted to him. He could be looking at himself in the mirror, they looked so alike anyway. Although, Alfred’s hair was admittedly a bit more lustrous, and his eyes deeper blue. And his lips were so…just, his _lips,_ they were so pink and symmetrical, and soft-looking, like a girl’s.  
Sam’s eyes fell off to a corner as he recalled that picture involving Alfred’s fingers. His tongue, it was so wet and lazy. The more animalistic part of Sam’s mind imagined what that tongue would feel like on his—NOPE.  
NOPE. R-E-A-D-I-N-G.  
But as he reached for the book, the phone lit up with another picture. Alfred had held his phone above him at enough of an angle to show his position: kneeling on his bed with his thighs spread wide, shirtless with a hand down his pants, lower lip tucked under his teeth and his eyes pleading. Too quickly, a text replaced the picture. “Come onnn.”  
Sighing hard, Sam picked up his book again, skimming over the page he had just finished. Another text showed up. “Please, Sam. I want you so bad right now.”  
He stopped breathing mid-exhale, feeling himself growing harder. Once he released his breath it became deep, and he felt like he was trying to push more air out than let in. Before he could “nope” himself one more time, Alfred sent a head-on picture of his crotch, clothed but with the fly of his jeans opened wide and with an enormous bulge begging to be touched.  
Alright, that was it. Sam decided he didn’t give a damn, sliding his thumb over the lock screen once, twice, three times before actually unlocking it as he shoved his pants down to his ankles, stuck his left hand down his boxers and jerked himself from base to tip. “Ah…”  
He scrolled back through the pictures, letting his fantasies go wild. His face flushed as he thought of Alfred’s lips on his cock, his perfect lips and hot, wet tongue…Sam slid his thumb repeatedly over the head of his penis, panting audibly as he closed his eyes. When he moaned he imagined it was Alfred’s voice, high and whiny, greedy for Sam’s dick. He grasped his shaft, squeezing the base of his cock as he pictured Alfred deepthroating him. The boy was certainly capable, if his meat-greedy mouth at any given meal was any indicator.  
Another message came and Sam drew the phone to his eyes. In the picture, Al smirked cheekily, his arm cutting across his chest in the picture and so causing Sam to wonder where that hand was. The thought that Alfred beating off to the pictures he was _sending_ was so narcissistic and _hot,_ it sent a fresh flood of sensation to Sam’s groin.  
“O-ohhh,” Sam groaned, biting the tip of his tongue as he fingered the precome dripping from his tip. He breathed loudly through his nose as he again grabbed his erection, fist moving faster up and down its length.  
Sam kept his eyes open long enough to read the next text, breath fogging up the screen. “I know you saw those ones. Are you totally touching yourself right now?”  
Yes, yes, _hell yes_ he was and it felt damn amazing. He set the phone down on his heaving chest, unfastening the lower buttons of his flannel shirt and pulling down his boxers to look down at his lust-driven actions. His cock was so hard, and so big, and hot and heavy in his hand. He wondered if Alfred’s was the same, or bigger. Ah, if it was bigger…nnh…Sam kicked off his jeans and underwear and spread his legs, dropping one to the floor as the other one made its way to the top of the back of the sofa. He ached to be penetrated, he wantonly ached for it. All intelligible thought stuttered and he bucked into his hand, hard and fast, slamming his head back against the cushioned armrest of the sofa. “Ah, ah…hh, ohh…”  
Another message came, this one of Alfred’s flushed face—just his face, the tease—and biting his lower lip, his skin shining in places from sweat. “You know I could probably get off on just sending you pictures. Just knowing that you’re looking at them and fucking your hand pretending it’s me.”  
As he worked himself closer and closer to climax, he began to verbally praise every new message Alfred sent with quiet pants of “yes, yes,” and moaned openly into the empty room. The new texts escalated very rapidly, from Alfred’s blissful expression to the expanse of his bare torso to, finally, a photo of his fist wrapped around the base of his _perfect_ cock. Sam moaned loud, amazed and pleased that his fantasies had been confirmed.  
“Ah, ahn…” Sam whimpered, his moans and breaths getting higher and quicker as he imagined Alfred’s dick inside of him. His hand reached down further between his legs and he fingered himself briefly, jerking at the change of sensation. His thumb brushed against his balls and he jerked again, shivering and playing with himself. And his mind went back to Alfred’s lips again, mmm, his lips, kissing his balls and wrapped around his cock and Sam started stroking himself again, vigorously.  
His phone began to ring. It was Alfred…and had Sam’s mind not been so clouded by concupiscence, he would have left the call alone, but he needed to hear that voice, so he tapped the green button and set the phone to speaker and the room suddenly filled with Alfred’s phone-muffled panting and moaning.  
“Nnh, Sam…Sam…ah…” he breathed. Sam could hear the quick pace of his strokes in the background and worked his to match.  
“Ohh…” Just Sam’s name on his lips was nearly enough. His mind raced at a thousand thoughts a second, each one a different fantasy but all of them containing Alfred’s face. His head was dizzy and the heat and pleasure at his groin, spreading down into his thighs, was so intense. His toes curled and he shifted down the sofa a ways, thrusting up into the tight ring of his hand. His mouth slacked open and his breathing was halted and sporadic, much like Al’s on the other line, but Al was so much louder, whining and whimpering and repeating Sam’s name and various curses under his breath. It was all too much and suddenly Sam’s legs went rigid and he came, hard, semen spilling out over his stomach as he convulsed in an orgasmic wave of pleasure. He bucked frantically into his hand, grunting and groaning as if to milk maximum pleasure out of it. “Aah, ALFRED!” His voice cracked mid-way through the name, mouth wide, and his jaw locked, face screwed up as he rode out the rest of the orgasm.  
He panted heavily through his nose as he listened to Alfred finish. “Hah…hah…h-hah, Sam…” It took him very few moments to recover. “I…hah…I knew it…”  
“Sh’up,” Sam mumbled, wincing at the sight of his messy torso.  
“I ha-ave a confession to make,” Alfred said. “I didn’t just accidentally text you. I just needed an excuse.”  
Sam’s heart fluttered in his chest, still beating quick although the rest of his body was trying to relax. “Whatever. You’re disgusting.”  
“Maybe you’ll sext me back in the future.” And with that he hung up.


End file.
